


Zuko's Love Song

by transboiyurio



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Compliant, First Kiss, First Time, For the most part, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, happy pride month zuko hates himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24517354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transboiyurio/pseuds/transboiyurio
Summary: A retrospective Zuko fic in which he faces his worst enemy yet: his feelings.Alternatively titled: "I'm Gay and Therefore Claim Zuko as Gay" or "Five Vignettes About My Comfort Character" or "I Just Rewatched ATLA on Netflix and Pinpointed Locations in Which Gay Zuko Would've Fit in Seamlessly"
Relationships: Jet/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 984





	Zuko's Love Song

The first boy Zuko ever kissed was Jet. 

He was undeniably attractive, yes, but Zuko spent a good couple of years on a ship, chasing the impossible, where the majority of the crew were men. They were much older, though, but this boy with shaggy hair and a mysterious past was Zuko's own age. He made Zuko's heart feel light in a way he wasn't used to feeling. Zuko felt unnaturally connected to him. 

Zuko remembered the starlight and the way Jet's eyes looked. There was always a slight smirk on his lips; it should have been obnoxious, but Zuko just couldn't bring himself to think that. Not to mention they worked remarkably well together, and when every refugee had a good meal to eat that night, Zuko felt better than he had in a long time. He'd look up from his food every so often and find Jet's eyes, glimmering in the starlight. He wanted to smile. 

There came a time of night when almost every refugee had gone to sleep, or at least tried. Zuko had tried, but after tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he had to get up. He'd spent plenty of nights on the water, so sleeping now shouldn't have been a problem for him. Yet something unrelated to the rocking waves kept him awake. 

Alone on the bow of the ship, Zuko gazed at the black water. Black, like eyes he couldn't erase from his mind. Zuko shuddered, and instead looked at the black sky. Black, like eyes he couldn't erase from his mind, no matter how much he wanted to. His heart beat so quickly. He scoffed at himself; now was not the time for this. Although he didn't think there ever would be a time for it. 

It was just a memory now, but footsteps had made Zuko jump. The sky was so dark that he couldn't see properly, but when he looked to his left, he couldn't have mistaken those black eyes. 

"You did good today," Jet said. His elbows rested on the railing as he leaned over. "I think we make a pretty good team." 

Zuko was too flustered at having been caught like this that he couldn't say a word. 

He didn't know who leaned in first, or maybe if it was simultaneous, but as suddenly as a rock would drop into the ocean below, Zuko and Jet kissed. Zuko was hesitant, but Jet wasn't; his tongue found its way between Zuko's lips before he even recognized it was happening. 

For a split second, everything seemed to stop. For a split second, they weren't refugees, Zuko wasn't a banished prince, and Jet wasn't a boy. For a split second, they were just teenage lovers, there was no war, and Jet was someone to rely on. 

Zuko's eyes opened before he broke away. Jet's lips were warm and his eyes were pretty and he was everything Zuko wanted. But Zuko was a banished prince and he was a firebender and he was not someone who could fall in love. _Love._ It wasn't love and it never could be love. Because even if it was, if they so much as tried at a relationship, there would be a day when Jet found out about Zuko's past and shattered every illusion of security he'd built up around them. 

It broke his heart, but Zuko pulled away. He took a step back for good measure. He watched the languid way Jet's eyes opened and a smirk spread over his lips. He was going to say something, something about how good it was or how much he liked Zuko, and if Zuko stayed to hear it, then he might never leave at all. So he tore himself away from the short fantasy he'd already created and dashed back to where the refugees slept. Because he was a refugee. A fugitive. A banished prince of the Fire Nation. 

Zuko laid down and covered his head with the blanket. Only a foot or so away, Iroh snored like nothing was wrong. Because nothing _was_ wrong. It was Zuko's own fault for thinking he could get away with this. 

He didn't sleep at all that night. And he didn't talk to Jet unless he had to. And he absolutely refused to mention what had happened. 

That was the real reason Zuko refused to join Jet on his little revenge quest or whatever he was planning. He couldn't listen to it. He couldn't look at Jet. It was best just to forget about it. 

When Jet burst into the tea shop shouting at the top of his lungs the truth about Zuko and Iroh, Zuko felt sick to his stomach. But it was less that Jet was dismantling the peaceful life they'd built, but more so that he'd found out the unsavory truth. And if there was even a single cell in Jet's body that wanted to kiss Zuko again, it died the second he found out he was from the Fire Nation. 

When Zuko found out Jet had died, he wept. 

He never told Katara that they'd both shared their first kiss with the same boy. 

**

The first person Zuko ever came out to was Iroh. 

He'd always known there was something different about himself, long before he was even banished. He'd known it forever, but it was always the kind of thing he knew he had to keep to himself. If his father couldn't tolerate him when he spoke out of turn, then there was no way he'd be able to tolerate his son's sexuality. 

His father was disapproving glares, mountainous shoulders, and burning hot rage at all times of the day. There wasn't an ounce of kindness in him, which scared Zuko to his very core. Iroh was once something like that, Zuko remembered, but absolutely not anymore. Iroh was the one to lend a helping hand when Zuko was lost. Iroh felt a lot more like a father than Ozai ever had. 

But Iroh was still Ozai's brother, and Zuko was still a prince. There were certain things princes were and weren't supposed to be, and if Zuko had any hope of regaining his honor some day, he'd forget about what made him different and just conform. 

Home had never felt more far away. It was a distant dream, a breath of nostalgia that had motivated Zuko through the nights of cold, wind, and loathing. Home was what he was searching for. But there came a point when jasmine tea and an old man's laughter were even homier than the sprawling Fire Nation palace he'd once roamed. 

Home was in Ba Sing Se, in the tea shop. Home was wherever Iroh was looking out for him. 

But this was the breaking point, Zuko thought. Iroh could tolerate insubordination, his animalistic drive, and even running from the law of the people he'd once known as his own. But Iroh couldn't tolerate this. It was more shameful than the scar on his face. Zuko swallowed it down every night and covered his face in a pillow, praying it wouldn't get out. 

But Iroh smiled at him every day. Iroh was always there with a word of wisdom or a cup of tea or whatever Zuko needed, unlike his father. So if he couldn't rely on Iroh, then who else? Nobody else knew him so well. Nobody else would have put up with his ups and downs. 

Every day, through the snow and the rain and the refugee ship and the tiny apartment in Ba Sing Se, Zuko woke up telling himself he would talk to Iroh. And every night, the sun set and Zuko held his tongue. He'd toss and turn while his uncle slept and try to tell himself it wasn't that bad. Iroh was a kind man. He had trustworthy eyes. It wasn't that bad. Yet it felt to Zuko as if having this conversation was even harder than capturing the Avatar. 

Zuko had been sick for days with a fever. He couldn't sleep without having dreams that screwed with his memories. Iroh was by his side, giving him water and trying to soothe him, but everything in his life was unbearably confusing. He didn't know what he wanted and he didn't know where to go. It was so bad that it made him physically ill. There was one constant, though; one thing Zuko had known forever. The one thing he'd stomached so no one else would have to see. 

After his first day back to work after his sickness, Iroh had prepared dinner with a steaming pot of tea. How he never got tired of the stuff, Zuko would never know. Iroh was so unlike anyone else Zuko had known growing up. It made him wonder if Iroh's breaking point was something far worse than he imagined. 

"Something's on your mind," Iroh's voice rumbled from where he sat across from him. Zuko hadn't said a word before then. He wondered how Iroh could tell, but then again, the old man always had a weird way of knowing things. 

"You can talk to me, Prince Zuko," Iroh added. 

Zuko hesitated. His hands fidgeted around the cup between them. 

"Is it a girl?" 

Zuko took a deep breath. "No," he finally said. 

"Then what's bothering you?" 

"It's not a girl," Zuko said. He stared into his teacup. "It's never a girl." Iroh was silent long enough to warrant Zuko's next breath. He closed his eyes. "Uncle... I'm gay." 

Iroh didn't say anything for a few seconds. It was enough for Zuko to force himself to look up. Iroh simply drank from his teacup. Zuko's heart dropped into his stomach. He shouldn't have said anything. It didn't matter how kind Iroh was; this was his breaking point. 

Before Zuko could think of what to do now, Iroh lowered the cup and his eyes opened. A small smile tugged at his lips. Zuko's heart thudded so hard he could hear it. Iroh cleared his throat and said, "I know." 

_"What?"_

"I know this. But I am glad you finally told me." 

"You-" 

"I saw you kiss that boy on the ferry." Zuko's face flushed. "I was going to wait for you to say something. It was taking so long that I almost had to say it myself. But I am glad you told me." 

Zuko was speechless. He didn't think anyone had seen that, nor did he want them to. It had been awkward, a vulnerable point, and Zuko didn't even want to think about it. 

Iroh chuckled, though, like Zuko's mind wasn't crumbling. "It's nothing to be ashamed of!" 

Zuko froze. His hands were sweaty around the cup. "You're _not..._ ashamed of me?" 

"Of course not!" Iroh chuckled again. 

That night, before he shut the door and laid down, Zuko said, "Thank you, Uncle." He didn't say it enough. 

That night, when Zuko went to bed, he didn't choke himself on his secrets for the first time in his life. This wasn't something he'd admitted to anyone--pardon the boy on the ferry who'd caught one too many glimpses of his soul in the moonlight, but even then, he hadn't had to go through the grueling process of actually _saying_ it. He hadn't prepared for a best case scenario--or even a worst one, to be honest; he hadn't really prepared at all--so he wasn't quite sure of how to act. But Iroh smiled at him the same way he always did. It seemed as if nothing had changed. 

Actually, the only thing that changed was that Iroh stopped asking Zuko about bringing home pretty girls. Instead, he started asking about handsome boys. 

**

The second boy Zuko ever kissed was Sokka. 

It was no secret that Sokka didn't like him; he made that knowledge perfectly public. Zuko didn't care much for Sokka, either--he was obnoxious and arrogant and didn't know when to shut up--but he accompanied him on the trip to the Boiling Rock anyway. 

For years, Zuko spent his time travelling with Fire Nation soldiers and Iroh, all much older than him. When he returned to the Fire Nation, he spent most of his time with Mai, and occasionally Ty Lee and Azula. They were close enough to his own age, but as the only boy of the group and also in a phony relationship he thought might please his father, he could never be quite comfortable. 

When Zuko joined the Avatar's team, he was confused for a long time. He'd never done something so bold, something so against everything he grew up believing. He wasn't welcomed with open arms and he knew that was fair. But he tried. These people were unlike anyone Zuko had ever met, let alone spent so much time with. But Sokka was something else. Because it had been a very long time since Zuko was even around a boy his own age. 

Surrendering to exist as a prince in the Fire Nation meant Zuko once again swallowed the part of himself he'd only let Iroh--and Jet, for a brief moment--see. It meant accepting his father's rules; god forbid Ozai revoke his hero status because of this. It hurt, it choked him at night, and there were so many times Zuko thought he'd suffocate. But Zuko broke free. 

He was free now. Free, with Sokka. 

Their chilly relationship began to defrost when they traveled to the Boiling Rock. Sokka insisted on going, and Zuko knew the way, and they set off into the night. 

Zuko clammed up. He didn't know what to say to Sokka. But Sokka didn't know what to say to Zuko, either. Zuko's heart clenched. The last time he was alone with another teenage boy was with Jet on the ferry, but Sokka wasn't like Jet. His eyes weren't so dark and he was so tense around him. It was different, uncomfortable even. 

When they started talking, though, they didn't stop. Zuko stood in front of the furnace and Sokka sat barely a foot away, and they talked, albeit a little awkwardly at first. It started with, "my first girlfriend turned into the moon," and "that's rough, buddy," but once they furthered into the rhythm of conversation, the floodgates opened up: "my father never loved me" and "your people destroyed my Tribe and killed my mother." Zuko didn't think he'd been this open with anyone before--except for Iroh, but he'd been there through it all. Sokka listened to every word, though, and nodded when he was supposed to. Sokka also opened up about his own life and trusted Zuko with every secret and childhood story. Nobody ever treated Zuko like that. 

They continued to sail even as the sun set. They weren't there yet, but Zuko suspected they'd arrive before the next break of day. They wouldn't get back to this peace they'd both found within each other, so it was best to soak it in while it lasted. That was what Zuko wanted to do. 

They fell silent for only a moment. Zuko fueled the fire in the balloon, then shut the furnace door. He looked towards the sunset, which painted the sky purple and orange. It was gorgeous, but when he looked over, Sokka's blue eyes sparkled in the dim light. Zuko took a deep breath. He told himself now was not the time. 

"Hey," Sokka said. He stood next to Zuko. His eyes were so much prettier up close. Zuko held his breath. "I, uh, I wanted to apologize. I judged you really quickly, and I... I was wrong. And I'm sorry." 

Zuko let go of his breath. "It's okay," he said. "And I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk for so long. I was... misguided." 

"You went through a lot. It's okay," Sokka said. He smiled gently. 

Zuko smiled back. His heart was beating so fast; he couldn't say a word. But he didn't have to say anything. Sokka leaned in and Zuko met him. And they kissed, just as the stars opened up above them. 

They were both rather tentative, their lips remained closed, and their hands remained by their sides. Zuko had kissed Mai with more passion than this. But this didn't feel anything like kissing Mai. Kissing Sokka made Zuko's heart soar with the balloon. His inhibitions disappeared. So did his past. The past didn't matter now, only the present did, here, now, with Sokka's lips on Zuko's. 

Zuko kept his eyes closed even once Sokka pulled away. He wanted to breathe it all in, in case he never felt it again. Sokka was quiet, and when Zuko did open his eyes, Sokka was looking away. 

The panic that rose in Zuko's chest was habitual, just like his urge to turn and run away and never speak of this again. It was what he was used to. But there was nowhere to run on this tiny balloon and certainly nowhere to hide from either Sokka or his feelings. Now forced to confront them, Zuko didn't have to shy away from his father or sister or societal pressures as a prince because he wasn't one. He didn't have to hide his story because he'd already told it. Sokka had seen Zuko at his absolute worst, yet he leaned in, too. And unless Zuko's people skills were even worse than he thought, Sokka wanted to kiss him, too. He was so accustomed to suppressing these feelings that for a moment, he forgot that he was free now. 

Sokka's hands clutched together tightly. He looked down at his feet. He cleared his throat and the sound cut through the heavy air between them. "So, um..." 

Zuko didn't let him even work out a coherent thought. He was free now, and he wanted to dive headfirst into it. He stepped forward, cupping one hand around Sokka's cheek, and kissed him again. Sokka didn't hesitate; his hand caressed the scarred side of Zuko's face and kissed him, his tongue working its way into Zuko's mouth. Zuko let him in. He didn't run away or choke on the secret that prevented him from breathing for so long. 

He only broke away when the balloon started to go down. He added more fire to the furnace, then turned back to Sokka. Sokka smiled at him. Zuko almost said something stupid. 

Sokka had eventually fallen asleep, but Zuko kept himself awake, staring at the stars between the clouds and wondering what would happen once the sun came up. He didn't worry so much about getting in or out of the prison, but he thought a lot about where this put him with Sokka. He hoped Sokka didn't think this was a mistake. He hoped it meant something. 

The Kyoshi warrior girl threw a lot of wrenches in Zuko's plans when they found her in the prison. It wasn't hard to see how infatuated Sokka was with her. Or how he'd never once acted that way around Zuko. And he probably never would. 

Normally, Zuko would have lashed out and burned something. But it wasn't rage that bubbled up inside him. There was jealousy, sure, but more than anything was sadness. Sokka didn't even mention their kisses--because there had been a few as they traveled through the night, each better than the last. Somehow, it was worse than if Sokka had pulled him aside and plainly said, "it was a mistake." It was so much more painful for Sokka to pretend it never happened while he held hands with somebody else. Zuko found another reason to lock himself away and never let it out again. 

But Zuko still felt sparks when he grabbed Sokka's hand, even if it was just to pull him to safety. There were almost as many sparks as there were when it had been their lips touching instead. 

**

The first boy Zuko ever touched was Sokka. 

He was also the first boy to ever touch Zuko. 

It wasn't that Sokka didn't pay any attention to Zuko in the days following their journey to the Boiling Rock. It was just that Sokka treated Zuko like a friend, a teammate, or someone to spar with, and not at all like someone he had kissed. Zuko figured it had something to do with the fact that his girlfriend was constantly around these days. He forced the memories of Sokka's lips out of his mind, or the way his eyes had looked in the moonlight, or the way Sokka had smiled at him when it was just the two of them alone. He forced himself not to think about it. The last thing he wanted was to ruin his good friendship with Sokka over this. 

But it still kept him up at night. And he still thought about it every time he saw Sokka. 

Zuko disregarded Suki when he walked into Sokka's tent. He was only concerned with his own plans to earn Katara's forgiveness and the instrumental information Sokka could give him. 

In hindsight, Zuko should have expected to see Sokka laying with a rose clenched between his teeth and candles lit all around him. 

Zuko swallowed his feelings and sat down anyway. After thoroughly killing the mood by asking Sokka about his mother, Zuko didn't want to leave, even once Sokka dismissed him. Because Zuko wasn't very good at ignoring his feelings anymore, and he was presently having a lot of them. 

Sitting on the floor of a dark tent, Zuko decided not to run away. He decided to face this head-on. Because he hadn't been allowed to run away in the balloon, so he wasn't allowed to run away here, either. He took a deep breath. Sokka watched him intently, probably wondering why he was still here. "Are we just not gonna talk about it?" Zuko finally asked. 

Sokka blinked a few times. "My... mom? Or..." 

"No. What happened on the way to the Boiling Rock. Are we pretending it never happened?" 

Sokka's face fell. "Oh," he murmured. "Uh..." 

"If you want to, then just say it." 

Sokka took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "It's just... I don't know. I'm confused." 

"Confused?" 

"Yeah. This is confusing for me." 

"Okay." Zuko sighed. "I'll go." 

"No, stay." 

Zuko's eyes widened. He sat perfectly still, just inches away from Sokka. Sokka didn't meet his gaze, and stared somewhere in the space between them. Zuko had a million questions on his mind--like where exactly Sokka's confusion stemmed from or what it meant for them going forward--but he didn't speak up. It didn't seem like Sokka wanted him to. So he stayed silent, observing, for what felt like hours until Sokka drew in a deep breath. 

"I... like you." 

Zuko's heart skipped a beat. "You like me?" 

"I don't want to, but I do," Sokka admitted. 

Zuko's eyes narrowed. "So what about-" 

"I don't know. I don't know what to do right now. The timing's awful and I just need to figure it out." 

Zuko fixed his eyes on his hands in his lap. "I'll go," he repeated. 

"I already told you to stay." 

Zuko wasn't going to lift his head or move. But Sokka's hands cupped his face, and there was a moment's breathless anticipation before they finally kissed again. 

It was better than the fleeting kisses on the balloon; this one was meant to last, Zuko could feel it. Tongues tangled between slack lips and teeth clinked against each other in an effort to reach each other's souls. 

There was nothing to talk about and even less to think about when they laid down together. Zuko's inhibitions disappeared with the candlelight as Sokka tugged at his clothes. Hesitant hands fumbled onto desperate bodies, craning towards each other in an attempt to close every gap that threatened to separate them. Gasps filled the tent, breath clouded on skin, and touches made warmth spread throughout Zuko's body. 

In the aftermath, they laid side by side while the light dwindled around them. Thoughts passed through Zuko's head frantically, but he didn't dare disturb the heavy air around them. 

Sokka's laugh sliced through the empty space. Zuko jumped. He turned his head. Sokka's eyes were fixed on the roof of the tent. "What?" Zuko croaked. He could barely speak. 

"I don't know," Sokka murmured. 

Zuko didn't say another word. He was thinking too much about what had just happened. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it was the most beautiful kind of accident. There would be consequences in the morning--especially in regards to facing Sokka's girlfriend--but that was hours away. And for now, Zuko wanted to soak in this feeling of freedom, of pleasure, of what he thought felt like love. _Love._ It felt right this time. 

Zuko laid awake even as Sokka snored beside him. He left before Sokka woke up. 

**

The only man Zuko ever loved was Sokka. 

That idea solidified for him after his coronation. 

Thousands of people had been there to watch, including friends and strangers, but most importantly, Sokka. He'd hugged Sokka in front of everyone else. 

But as the sun set and everyone turned in for the night, Zuko found himself alone by the ponds, just like he had as a kid, feeding the turtle ducks and thinking about his mother. He hadn't heard a single footstep, but he didn't jump when Sokka cleared his throat and said, "Are you busy?" 

Zuko turned and shook his head. Tentatively, Sokka joined him by the pond. It reflected orange at this time of night. The stars were coming out. "So... I wanted to tell you something." They both kept their eyes fixed on the gently rippling water just beyond their feet. "I... want this." 

"What?" 

When Zuko apologized to Iroh before the comet came, he'd stayed in the tent for a long time to talk to him. Most of all, he was grateful for Iroh's forgiveness--a weight that had been crushing him for so long was finally lifted--but they'd also taken some time to catch up. Meaning Zuko--begrudgingly--told Iroh about Sokka, to which Iroh assured him he wasn't ashamed or disappointed or angry with him at all. And though he never said it explicitly, Iroh still advocated for Zuko to take over the throne knowing about his feelings, and how permanent he intended them to be. 

Ozai was in prison. The world was slowly being healed and rebuilt on the principles or peace and kindness. And for Zuko to achieve that within himself, he needed to stop hiding who he was. And he needed Sokka by his side. 

Sokka turned his head. Zuko met him. Their next kiss was much gentler than they'd shared in previous days, but it didn't fail to make Zuko's heart race. Blinking his eyes open, he found Sokka's hand extended in front of him. "I know we're not going to be able to see each other all the time, but I think... we should try this. I don't want to give it up. So if you want to try it, then..." 

Zuko took Sokka's hand. Squeezing it, Sokka shut his mouth. Zuko smirked. "You only want me because I'm the Fire Lord." 

Sokka laughed too loudly in the quiet courtyard. "Yeah. That's it." 

Zuko smiled. He leaned his head on Sokka's shoulder, and Sokka didn't shrug him off. Closing his eyes, Zuko was enveloped in a warmth he hadn't felt before. "I love you." 

Zuko should have been scared. He should have immediately regretted those words, and some time ago, he would've run away before he could even think them. But they weighed down on him, he realized; they lodged themselves in his throat and stole his breath. But Zuko stopped choking when he laid down next to Sokka in that tent, and he didn't plan on doing it again. He was free now. He was liberated by what chased him for his whole life. 

There was no fear in the pause that Sokka took. Because Zuko had total confidence that Sokka would take a deep breath and admit, "I love you, too." He did. 

The night came and went, as did the following weeks, and they went their separate ways. They didn't see each other nearly as often as they wanted to, but they never lost that connection they'd built while flying in the sky. It bound them together and kept their sparks alive when they were able to see each other. Sometimes it was only for a brief moment, others it was enough for them to find the other in bed, but no matter what, they always said, "I love you." And it was always honest. 

Zuko loved Sokka until the day he died. And he loved him beyond that, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :) Leave a comment/kudos if you feel so inclined.


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